


Sweetheart

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Spn Hiatus Writing Challenge [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Sam, Dominant Reader, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pegging, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "I was bring sarcastic!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetheart

Sam is a wreck.

You watch from where you’re hidden behind a shelf in the bunker library as you boyfriend practically collapses into a chair. The last hunt was rough on him, both physically and emotionally, and he’s blaming himself for the death of a civilian. Obviously it wasn’t his fault, but he’s a Winchester. Guilt is his middle name.

Sam runs his hands through his hair, revealing his face. He looks exhausted. He  _ is _ exhausted. He hasn’t been sleeping well since the hunt. You have a plan, though. Hopefully you can wear him out enough that he’ll get some decent rest.

You return the book you were flipping through to it’s place on the shelf- Sam spent weeks meticulously organizing the library. Dean made fun of him for it, but even he has to admit that it makes research a lot easier. You move silently across the room to lay your hands on Sam’s shoulders. He startles, but recognizes your touch.

“Meet me in the bedroom in fifteen minute, sweetheart,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. His hair is greasy and you make a face. “Shower first. Don’t bother getting dressed. Got it?”

“Yes. ma’am,” he says quietly.

He heads for the showers and you go to the bedroom. You strip quickly and slide the box of toys from under the bed. From it you select your strap-on harness and Sam’s favorite of the compatible dildos. You put the harness on, carefully tightening the straps until it’s secure.

A few minutes later, Sam walking to the room in nothing but a towel to find you lying on your side on the bed, mostly covered by the blankets.

“Ditch the towel and come here,” you say, beckoning him as you prop yourself up on your elbow.

He obeys, carefully laying the towel over the side of the hamper so it doesn’t get mildewy. His body is visibly tense as he moves to the bed, but you can’t help an admiring glance. Your boy is gorgeous all over, right down to the cock that is massive even soft.

Sam crawls under the blankets and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your shoulder. You gently pet his hair, careful to keep your hips separate so he doesn’t feel the strap-on.

“Roll over, sweetheart,” you finally say, nudging his shoulder.

Sam rolls so his back is to you and you spoon up behind him, letting the dildo slide against the small of his back as you press kisses across his shoulders.

“Y/N…” he starts.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” you assure him, one hand sliding around to grip his quickly growing erection.

He shakes his head, damp hair tickling your face. “Don’t stop.”

You smile and twist around until you can grab the lube sitting on your bedside table. You squirt some on your fingers and then reach down to spread his ass with one hand while the lubed one finds his puckered hole.

A soft moan escapes Sam’s throat as you press a finger inside, feeling the hot clench of his muscles.

“You’re doing good,” you tell him. “It’s been a while, so I’m going to have to be extra slow with the prep tonight.” Not that either of you really mind. Sam’s a slut for anything in his hole, from your fingers to the biggest toy you own. He could probably come just like this, but you’re not going to let him.

You work him open until he can fit all four of your fingers easily. You’re careful to avoid his prostate, but Sam has always been pretty sensitive and he’s rock hard, cock a perfect curve that leans slightly to the left due to his position. His right leg is pulled up to give you better access, and his head is tilted back, showing off that gorgeous throat.

“So beautiful,” you whisper. “Such a good boy for me. Think you’re ready to take my cock?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, lifting his leg more. Sometimes you forget how flexible he is for a man of his size and build.

You pull out your fingers out. A soft whine falls from his lips, barely audible.

“Shhh,” you sooth. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

You slick up the toy, being liberal with the lube, and shift your hips back so you can press the tip to his hole. Sam’s mouth falls open, though no sound escapes him, as you begin the slow push inside.

“You’re doing so good,” you praise, running your hand over his chest to gently pluck at his nipples. “Such a good boy. I’m almost all the way in, sweetheart. That’s it.”

Your hips meet his ass as you bottom out. You stay still, letting him adjust to the intrusion. When he nods and grinds his hips back, you begin to move.

You keep your pace slow and even, angling to rub over his prostate with every other stroke. Quiet, pleading sounds escape him, with the occasional plea for “harder” and “more” strewn in. You don’t want harder and faster, though. This is about taking care of you boy and despite what he thinks, a good hard fucking is not what he needs.

Sam’s arm moves and you know he’s going for his cock, so you grab his wrist.

“No, sweetheart. If you cum, you’re going to cum like this. Okay?”

He nods and twists his fingers into the blankets to keep from touching himself. You know he can orgasm from this alone, he’s done it before, but he’s being impatient and that’s not okay. Your usually patient boy is impatient as can be in bed. It’s something you’ve been helping him work on for a while. If you give in to him now, all that work might be for nothing.

You push yourself up on one elbow, adjusting your angle, and lean down to suck a bruise on the side of his neck. “Mine,” you murmur against his skin.

“Yours,” he replies, a little breathless. His eyes are shut, dark lashes fluttering against the tan skin of his face. He didn’t shave before coming to bed and the stubble scratches you lips when you stretch yourself to kiss his cheek.

You settle back and roll your hips slowly, rubbing the toy deliberately over his prostate. He groans and his body arches a little. You repeat the motion, drawing him right up to the edge and stopping before he can fall over.

“Please,” he gasps, one hand flying back to grasp desperately at you. You grab it in your own, weaving your fingers into his. “ _ Please _ .”

You glance at the clock. It’s been almost a fully twenty minutes since Sam first entered the bedroom. He’s lasted much longer, but tonight’s not the night for testing limits. He’s already exhausted.

You begin thrusting again, hitting that sweet spot with every inward push. The way he writhes on the fake cock is enough to slick your inner thighs with your own juices, but you’re barely aware of it. Sam is your entire focus right now. Your pleasure comes second.

Suddenly Sam’s whole body tenses and he moans, fingers tightening around yours. You keep moving, even when he clenches down on the toy, drawing the orgasm out for as long as possible.

Finally he relaxes. You pull out and quickly remove the harness so you can begin cleaning up. Sam is a pile of limp limbs and sleepy smiles on the bed, willing moving wherever when you roll him away from the wet spot. You wipe both of you down with a damp rag, make a mental note to not let Dean do the laundry tomorrow, and crawl into bed beside Sam.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, already mostly asleep.

* * *

 

The next morning Sam staggers into the kitchen, looking much better than yesterday despite his funny walk and the way he cringes when he sits.

“Dude,” Deans says, making a face at his brother across the table. “When I said a good lay would help you feel better, I was being sarcastic!”


End file.
